This was supposed to be one articulate paragraph about bisexuality

I have a lot of thoughts about bi-erasure/bi-invisibility, especially in my own life/style, but I'm not entirely solid on them yet.

Most of my long relationships have been hetero-oriented, so the safe assumption is that. but I've got 20+ years of flirts, one-nights, and the occasional long-term thing with women, too. I'm definitely more romantically attracted to men, and more physically attracted to women, and this manifests in sometimes choosing who the brain gets along with better than the body, and that's OK. I'll take the brain. Brains are awesome.

I'm very publicly affectionate, I mean, anyone who saw me out and about with Brooke would have seen red light smooches, hand holding, nose booping, and other annoyingly cutesy things that hetero peeps do, and there was really very little self-consciousness about it even though it was always a known thing that same-sex peeps just don't do that in public. So we did it more. Because transgression. But unless someone also saw me with Jeff or Loren or someone else at the same time, those sorts of affectionate displays just read as lesbian. Not that there's anything wrong with that.

There really aren't any stereotypical visual cues for bisexuality. I mean, if I rocked a pompadour and casually leaned on stuff a lot, that would be fairly just cause for a fair number of assumptions. And if I was a weekend woo girl, that reads as totally straight - no questions asked. But there's no optic code for the middleground. Which is awesome a lot of the time, the hiding in plain sight bit is fun when pretending to be a superhero, so I just do that a lot. But I guess sometimes I wish there was something subtle, something other than wearing lavender moons or whatnot. Maybe a nice necklace...

The "phasing" of bisexuality is problematic, too; there seems to be a lot of bi-now/gay-later shifting, and if that is part of a learning and transitioning process then cool. Of course. But I guess I feel a lot of the more public forms of that (lookin' at you, Tom Daily) seem to be like "whoops! my bad."

And on TV's Constantine, he kisses no boys. None.

But then again, none of this really matters. But then it really, really does. And none of this is nearly as articulate as I'd hoped, but I'm off to lunch now and any rethinking will just have to wait until I get back.